The Killer
by Sapphira Volkov
Summary: What if Jace had actually went into the mundane world as a hit man? What happens when he gets arrested by the FBI? Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments, and neither do you, no matter how much you cry and beg.**

**Number three, peeps! I'm so proud of myself. Enjoy yourselves.**

A blonde boy trailed the big man into an alley. He had been careful not to let the man know that he was being followed, but at the last moment, he couldn't resist letting his foot splash in a puddle. The man whirled around, fear evident in his eyes.

"Who- who are you? What do you want?" he asked, his voice quavering. The boy smiled wickedly.

"I was paid to get rid of you." At that, he raised his knife, but before he could throw it, he heard a door open, sirens wailing, and several guns cocking.

"Freeze! FBI!" The boy's smile slid off his face.

"Shit!" He reached into his pocket, faster than anyone could see, and fired off three rounds from a Glock 17 pistol. The man was dead before he hit the ground. Then the boy ran. In a moment, he was at the other end of the alley, but the police had planned for that. In seconds, he was cuffed by police who were standing at the other end, waiting for him. "Let go of me, bastards!"

"Oh, shut up, Lightwood." One of the officers hit him on the head with the butt of his gun, and the boy crumpled to the ground. His companion snickered.

"Jace Lightwood, the infamous hit man. Your reign of terror ends now."

**Kay, guys, I need some help with this. Who's got some good ideas? Lay it on me. Reviews, PMs, whatever, but I need feedback if I'm going to continue.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Honestly, some nights I lay in bed and wonder if I should become a poet. No, seriously! I have a fluid way with words, even though I'd only discovered my creative writing talent this year. From my innermost core, I am an artist. Do I not sound poetic? *plucks imaginary rose, hurst finger on thorn, and scowls* Fine. Leave me to my dreams. Hmph!**

Jace sat in his cell, steaming with anger. His hands were cuffed at the wrists, the chains attached to the walls. Obviously they needed to be sure they had him. He had escaped before, each time more easily than the next. The first, he had merely jumped onto the roof of a nearby building, scaring the shit out of the cops. Slowly, as if against his will, he closed his eyes, and was greeted by the ever-familiar vision of red hair, pale skin, and green eyes. Clary. She was laughing, her eyes alight, as they always were when she laughed. How could it have happened, that they were brother and sister? It was like God was spitting on him. Then came Maryse, with her words to go away and stay away. Well, at least he didn't have to see Alec and Isabelle's faces when they found out that their own mother had thrown him out. He had never gone back, for all his longing to. He couldn't. The question was, why hadn't his father come back for him? What had kept him away?

"Alright, get up." Jace whirled to face the door. Three men stood in the doorway, nightsticks at the ready. He backed into the corner as far as he could go, his eyes wary, yet furious. A feral snarl ripped through him.

"Leave. Me. Alone." The guards stepped back in spite of themselves. Jace looked like a caged lion, alert but unable to escape, ready to fight for his life but knowing that that might actually be the price. Finally, he sighed.

"Well, no point letting you people waste perfectly good air." His muscles relaxed, and one of the men came over to unlock his manacles. As soon as his wrists were free, his flat hand flew up, the side connecting with the guard's neck. The man collapsed, and Jace jumped sideways, launched himself from the wall, and flipped over the other two guards. He rolled when he hit the ground, came up standing, and was gone before they could stop gaping.

**I love Jace. He reminds me so much like Dimitri. Both tortured souls, although, truthfully, Jace was never in the KGB. ;p Rise. It's on my profile. Check it out. (Yes, I know it's shameless to promote it here, but what can I say? I am, above all, shameless.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I must be incredibly bored to keep doing this. Honestly, people, why am I not having fun in pools and parks and other such nonsense like a "normal" person? Oh, right. I'm not normal. ;p**

Jace ran through the facility, desperate to escape. All he found were more doors, walls, and hallways. Finally he decided to pick a door at random, open it, and see what was behind it, since he had yet to see an elevator or a flight of stairs. Bad idea. Behind the first door he opened were half a dozen fully armed police officers playing cards and drinking coffee. And they didn't offer me any. They stared at him for a moment in shock, during which time he had already made it to the end of the hallway. He didn't make it far. By the time he turned the corner, he banged into another group of officers. Ten minutes, nine black eyes, and several broken bones later, Jace was unconscious, cuffed, and on his way to trouble.

o(^_^)o

When Jace woke again, he was sitting in a hard plastic chair, his wrists cuffed to the armrests. There was a man sitting across from him, with a table between them. He was a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, wearing a sleek, crisp, black suit, and carrying a briefcase. When he noticed that Jace was awake, he put down the sheet of paper he was reading and dusted off his expensive-looking suit.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Jace. My name is Detective Rodriguez." Jace raised his eyebrow.

"What happened to the other one? Jameson, was it?" The detective coughed, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

"Detective Johnson was sent to the psychiatric ward of the local hospital after he started ranting about a duck conspiracy. He's been there ever since, well, interrogating you." Jace inclined his head.

"I wish you the same luck." He glanced down at the manacles while Rodriguez spluttered. "Well, I must say, this is more than a little kinky. After all, it's with the trained professionals that the scandals always happen, yes?" Rodriguez's face turned red, then purple, and Jace could hear laughter from the other side of the one-way mirror.

"Excuse me. I'm here to ask you a couple of questions and leave. Nothing more." Jace winked at him.

"Oh, not out of the closet yet? Don't worry, Sherlock. Your secret's safe with me." Rodriguez stood abruptly, banging his hand on the table.

"I AM NOT HOMOSEXUAL! I'M NOT HERE TO FLIRT WITH YOU, I'M HERE TO GET SOME BUSINESS DONE." Jace nodded.

"You're right. You can't be homo. You'd sully the image." At that, the detective's hand whipped toward his belt and his holster. Before he could shoot Jace, the door slammed open with a bang, and two officers ran inside. One of them tried to put a hand on the detective's shoulder, but the other man elbowed him in the gut, then leaped at Jace and flung his ists into every available area he could. Jace laughed.

"Is this what they teach the FBI? Mundies. Let me show you real strength." With a flick of his wrist, he grabbed the detective's wrist and snapped it with a satisfying crack. Rodriguez howled in pain, and the officers dragged him out, leaving Jacce alone, smirking after them.

**Reviews, peeps!**


	4. Chapter 4

**So... Summer. You know, during the school year, most people ask what their friends did over the weekend. I have one friend that I don't ever ask that. If I want an exciting story, I ask him: "So... Got laid by anyone interesting lately?" That's simply because he gets laid a lot, so he has lots of funny stories. His name is Rafael. Anyways, on to the story!**

When the door opened again, Jace had all but fallen asleep. He opened one eye lazily and looked at the man standing in the doorway. He had sleek black hair, and the sort of face that you forget even as you're looking at it. Jace yawned, his jaw cracking horribly.

"'s about time someone came around. What happened to the detective?" The man glared at him for a moment, then sat down at the desk.

"Jace Lightwood. Funny, you aren't on any of the records. Where were you born?" Jace grinned.

"Idris." The man's eyebrows went up at that.

"Cader Idris, in England? Or Idris in Queens?" Jace laughed.

"No. Idris, the little country between Germany and France." The man's eyes flashed.

"Don't kid me, boy. There's nothing between Germany and France except Switzerland." Jace smiled blandly.

"Maybe not for you, Mundane." The detective's hand tightened convulsively, and the paper crumpled.

"Fine. Don't answer. Mr. Lightwood-"

"Jace, but you can call me Sexy." The man's face hardened.

"_Mr. Lightwood_. If you insist on evading the questions, I can make you very uncomfortable." Jace sighed dramatically.

"I doubt it, but if you insist... What do you want to know?" The detective pounced.

"Who exactly are you? Who are your family? Who do you work for? You were obviously trained better than the Kopassus- who trained you?" Jace smiled slyly.

"You make me blush, detective. While I am the best of my age, I'm hardly Jonathon Shadowhunter. My family tossed me out two years ago. My father trained me, then faked his own murder when I was ten. I don't work for anyone. If someone wants to get rid of someone, they hang out at a certain place at a certain time, and I come to meet them. I announce a different place every day a week in advance. Is that enough, or should I continue on to a play-by-play of my lovelife? Honestly, there are some things you don't need to know, but you might be the type to enjoy literary porn." The detective ignored him and jotted down some notes.

"Now we're getting somewhere. Now, who are your family? Are they like you?" Jace's smile dropped, and he glared at the detective, his face stony.

"I will _not_ discuss them. Pick any other topic. If we go back to this, I will tear you apart so that you'll feel every piece of you becoming disconnected."

**Well, somebody's in a bad mood. Although I think we can all understand where he's coming from. Right guys? Reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

**While none of you have actually mentioned it, I'm sure you all want to know what's been going on outside of the little confines of Jace's life. Enjoy!**

Clary banged on Magnus's door.

"Magnus fucking Bane! Get _up_!" The door swung open, and Alec glanced at her in amusement.

"You know, yelling at him like that won't make him want to let you in any more." She snorted and shoved past, knocking him into the wall.

"And pissing me off isn't going to help you get rid of your bruises." Alec rubbed his wounded shoulder.

"Be just a little gentle, Clary. Jace is-" Suddenly he gasped, falling to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. "Auggh!" Clary swiveled and dropped to a crouch next to him.

"What do you see?" Her hand went to the pocket of her gear, and she etched a quick rune on Alec's forearm. _**Share.**_ Suddenly images flooded her mind. Jace running. A man, lying on the sidewalk in a pool of blood. People shouting behind him. _Freeze! FBI!_ Jace running into a regimen of officers, getting hit in the head. Jace in a white hallway, trying to fight his way through a team of twenty SWAT officers. Jace cuffed to a chair, laughing at a man in a suit, whose face was furious bordering on insanity. Jace talking to a professional-looking man, his face going stony. _I will not discuss them. Pick any other topic. If we go back to this, I will tear you apart so that you'll feel every piece of you becoming disconnected._ Then The vision went black, and Magnus was leaning over them. Alec stood and pulled her up with him.

"Jace was arrested by the FBI. He... he's a killer." Magnus nodded. "And you knew?" Another nod. "Why didn't you tell me?" Magnus sighed.

"Come with me, Alexander, Clary." He marched them up to his apartment and into his bedroom. Clary scowled and leaned against the doorway.

"What's this about, Magnus?" Magnus sighed.

"Jace was thrown out of the Institute two years ago. by Maryse. you know this. What you don't know is that when he was, he came here. He wanted to move in." Magnus chuckled. "Naturally I said no. After that, he disappeared. After a month, when I didn't hear from him, I checked up on him. Guess where he was?" Both Shadowhunters shook their heads. "Stalking a grown man. I saw him creep up on him, then pounce and drive his blade up between the man's ribs. Half an hour later, a man was writing out a check to Jace Lightwood. Jace had killed a man for money. You know what that means." Clary sat down on the bed, her head in her hands.

"He's become a hit man. Or part of the Mafia." Magnus grinned.

"He's not part of the Mafia. He _is_ the Mafia."

**My dad made that joke once. I told him he's too old to be in the Mafia. He was like, "I'm not part of the Mafia, I am the Mafia." Reviews!**


	6. Chapter 7

**You know, eventually I'm going to get either bored or lazy. Just warning you of the impending disaster. So, Jace. Yeah. He's very... forceful. He doesn't discuss things. Anyways, flashback time! I just have no idea how to continue, and I promised myself I'd update every day except Saturdays. That means tomorrow is inspiration day! Have fun, peeps! By the way, this address was chosen simply because I was too lazy to find an actual hit man, so I Google mapped Chinatown, New York, NY, and chose the first alleyway I found. So... yeah. If this is your church/school, or even if it isn't please don't be offended.**

Jace smirked from the top of the church as the two men crept into the alleyway, obviously trying to catch him off guard. As they turned in a circle, trying to find him, he snickered and dropped lightly to the ground behind the bigger one, holding a small double-bladed dirk to his throat. The other man froze, then threw his hands up. Jace chuckled.

"This is 54 Catherine Street. I believe you've found who you were looking for. What do you want?" The man trembled.

"I, uh, want you to get rid of somebody for me. Yeah. One of the men from my office." Jace snorted.

"That's the general idea. What'd he do? Is your wife cheating on you for him? I don't blame her." The man winced, and Jace knew he struck a nerve. "Just give me the name and the time you want it done by." The man shivered.

"Tonight, there's a party at my house. The fool- he's forty and about twice my size, and he rides a motorcycle everywhere. It'll be parked in the alleyway next to my house. Take care of him then." He passed over an invitation. It was written on fancy ivory paper, with cold cursive writing. Jace whistled.

"Any chance I could stop by?" The man stared at him, uncomprehending. "Forget it. I'll come in, watch him until he leaves, and leave with him. He won't bother you anymore." Jace crouched, sheathed his dagger, and jumped. The men craned their necks to see him, but he was gone.

**I'll continue the flashback on Sunday. I'm too lazy, and it's Friday. Gotta go. Love you, peeps! Reviews!**


	7. Chapter 8

**Yeah, so... I know you hate me, but I went to Six Flags with my family and neighbors, so I couldn't update. I apologize again. It was barely even worth it. Anyone know where I can hire a hit man for my brother and his friends? Maybe I can ask Jace...**

Jace smiled and winked at the gaggle of rich ladies ogling him, and one of them spilled her wine all over her dress. He'd worn black, as usual. Even though he knew he would look godly in a white tuxedo, it still felt wrong to wear the color of mourning when he wasn't, as though he was dishonoring the dead. After all, how many times had the song been ingrained in his head?

_"Black for hunting through the night_ _For death and sorrow, the color's white_ _Gold for a bride in her wedding gown,_ _And red to call enchantment down."_

He didn't blame them for wanting him. He knew he looked good. He just didn't care. After Clary, he had never cared. He didn't flirt unless he had to, he didn't kiss unless in an emergency, and he didn't have sex ever. If he couldn't go back, he wouldn't tarnish her memory. One of them got up the courage to walk over.

"Hey, sexy." He smiled tolerantly and downed a full glass of vodka.

"Hey. Do you need something?" he asked, adopting a slight Russian accent. She giggled.

"I was wondering if you'd like to step out with me." Jace smirked and cocked his head to the side, letting his golden locks fall over his tawny eyes. He could see her hands itching to push it away as he spoke.

"I'm afraid I can't. After all, you don't know what type of person I am. What if I'm bad for you?" She laughed out loud at that.

"You couldn't be dangerous to me." He smiled, then he was behind her.

"I wouldn't be so sure." She gasped and turned around, but by then, he was gone.

o(^_^)o

Jace sighed from behind the pillar. Dear god, why were women so persistent? He walked over to the man from the alley and tapped his shoulder. He was conversing with some other, well-dressed patrons, and jumped when he saw him.

"Please excuse me. I need to borrow our generous host for a moment." Without waiting for an answer, he steered the man away and reached into his jacket. Inside was a Glock 17 pistol, which he pressed against the man through their suits. The man paled.

"How did you get that through security?" Jace laughed softly.

"Magic. Now, which one was it that you were going to introduce me to?" The man blinked and pointed across the room. Jace's eyes narrowed. "Your boss." The man nodded. "Oh, that's so underhanded and nasty. I'm liking you more every second. So, after the party, you leave three million dollars inside the church where I met you, in the first pew. It'll get to me." He nodded, and Jace released him. "Now, go enjoy the party." As he waddled away, a low voice purred behind him.

"How did you do it?" He whirled around to see the woman he had spoken to before, smiling at him. "How did you move so fast?" He groaned inwardly. To her however, he remained pleasant.

"Where there's a will, there's a way, and trust me, miss, there was no shortage of will." Her eyes narrowed as she registered the insult.

"How dare you-"

"Good day, miss." He bent down and kissed her hand, then left.

**Dear lord, Jace has his hand full. I say "hand" because it's nothing for a Shadowhunter. It's a minor annoyance. So, the flashback is almost done. The next one is a more detailed version of the first chapter, and a little before. I'm just too lazy to do more. Love you all! Reviews!**


	8. Chapter: 8

**Guys, why do I have no life? Seriously. I'm spending the entire summer cooking, cleaning, typing, and annoying my therapist. What's wrong with me?**

Jace tailed the fat man throughout the party, not even bothering to glanced back at the woman he had slighted. It was as simple as he couldn't be bothered. At eleven, the man left the party. Jace smiled and sauntered up to him at the door, smiling angelically.

"Did you enjoy the festivities, sir?" The fat man smiled back.

"Yes, thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, young sir, I must retire." Jace nodded graciously, let him pass, and watched from the window as the fat man made his way to the alley. Here was the part he enjoyed most; the rush just before he killed the victim. It was euphoric, and he smirked as he let his foot splash into a puddle, left behind by last night's rain. The man swiveled, terror evident on his face.

"Who- who are you? What do you want?" he asked, his voice quavering. Jace smiled wickedly.

"I was paid to get rid of you." At that, he raised his knife, but before he could throw it, he heard a door open, sirens wailing, and several guns cocking.

"Freeze! FBI!" Jace's smile slid off his face, his mind racing.

"Shit!" He reached into his pocket, faster than anyone could see, and fired off three rounds from a Glock 17 pistol. The man was dead before he hit the ground. He felt some satisfaction at the horrified exclamations of the officers, the way the man hadn't even any time to cry out before the bullets killed him. Then he ran. In a moment, he was at the other end of the alley. He hadn't been prepared for what came next. There was a platoon of officers at the other end of the alley. In seconds, he was cuffed with his hands behind his back, struggling furiously. If he'd only known, he could have employed a glamour rune. "Let go of me, bastards!"

"Oh, shut up, Lightwood." One of the officers hit him on the head with the butt of his gun, and Jace crumpled to the ground, the world going black. The last thing he saw was a flash of red hair behind his eyelids, soft pink lips, blazing emerald eyes. He sighed contentedly as he sank into unconsciousness. As long as he had her, he was happy.

**Nya, Nya. I know. It's childish, but effective nonetheless. Next is the future. Reviews, or he'll destroy the world!**


	9. Chapter 9

**My life sucks. Might as well have some fun with it! Kay, back to the future!**

Jace was cuffed and led back to his new cell, smirking all the way. As the guard shoved him in, he fell, then rolled to his feet. The guard was female; blond, curvy, and fairly attractive. Sunk into the wall was a metal ring, which had a chain threaded through it. On each end was an iron manacle. He smiled charmingly at the guard.

"If you could find it in your heart to pass along the message to one of your superiors, I'd like to arrange a meeting with one of them as soon as is convenient to them. It's of an urgent matter, if you catch my drift." She blushed slightly and nodded, then walked over and unlocked one of the cuffs on his wrists, carefully replacing it with one connected to the wall. She repeated the process with his other wrist, then spoke.

"For your sake, don't cause trouble." Jace dropped his eyelids and glanced up at her through his lashes, golden eyes smoldering.

"Don't worry about me." He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "You should worry about yourself." With that, he ripped the thick iron ring out of the wall and swung the his arms forward, wrapping the chain around her torso. She dropped the keys in surprise, and he unlocked the manacles from his wrists, locking them onto hers to keep the chain in place. By the time she came to her senses and opened her mouth to call for help, he had ripped off a strip of his sheet and was in the process of tying it around her mouth. Then he locked the cuffs onto her ankles and laid her down onto the bed. "It's not your fault. Just keep calm. I'll be seeing you." She blinked, and he was out before she opened her eyes.

o(^_^)o

Jace smiled as he closed the door to his cell, locking it behind him. It was just so nice that the guards were so gullible. He turned from the door, ready to run, and was shoved into the wall. There was another officer in front of him, pinning him to the wall by the shoulders.

"You think it's that easy to get away?"

"Actually, yes." Jace swung his arms upward, loosening the guard's grip and hitting him in the chin, hard. The guard howled as he bit his tongue, his hands automatically going to his face. Jace brought his knee up, crushing the guard's genitals. The man collapsed, and Jace smirked. "Yes, I do." Then he walked away.

**Bye, bye. Oh, Jace. You can't be having fun now! Clary needs you! Peeps, don't worry, I'm working on the plotline now. It's going to be awesome!**


	10. Chapter 10

**So sorry I took so long, I have no excuse. Honestly, I'm actually super busy right now; my dad wants me to pack candy bags for the entire Jewish population, instead of just our synagogue. Seriously, there aren't five hundred Jews within walking distance, let alone children. *sigh* I'm sorry. I'm venting. Still, he promise I get mine early, and then I'll get another one in synagogue, so then I'll have double! BTW, Spy Kids 3, Game Over- the Toymaker's name is Sebastian, and the grandpa's name is Valentine, and they have a history. Coincidence I think not! Anyways, back to the story!**

Clary walked home with Alec, tears threatening to burst forward. Still, she held back until they reached the Institute. As soon as the gate was open, she ran to the elevator, wrote out a speed rune on the gold wicker, and zoomed upward. By the time Alec came up, nauseated by her new Mark, she was already in Jace's room. Her room. She had refused lodging anywhere else. Her mother was still asleep; what could she do? She was sobbing into her pillow, but the tears refused to fall. She hadn't shed any tears since he had left. Alec put a hand on her shoulder.

"It'll be okay. He'll be fine." At that moment, he doubled over, clutching his head. She whipped around and retraced Share, and the images flooded her mind.

Jace being shoved into a cell by a pretty blond woman in a uniform, Jace chaining the woman and leaving her in his cell, Jace fighting a man in a police uniform. Jace running, then stopping and looking behind him, directly at her, and blinking. His lips formed her name, and her heart fluttered for the first time in two long years. Then it all went black, and she found herself on the floor with Alec's arms around her, tears streaming down her face.

"He's okay. He still remembers you." She laughed through the tears, a wet choking sound.

"He saw me. He said my name." Alec nodded.

"It's okay." She nodded, and let Alec pick her up and put her into bed. "Good night, Clary."

o(^_^)o

Jace ran through the halls, going back the way the guard had taken him. Suddenly the back of his neck prickled, and he whirled. There was no one there, but he felt someone's presence. His paraboti rune tingled, but there was something else.

"Clary." He could see an image of her forming, sitting on the floor, watching him, tears streaming down her cheeks, her gorgeous emerald eyes red from crying. Alec was next to her, his arms around her, his eyes locked on Jace. The image boldened, then turned translucent as it faded. He turned away and punched the button for the elevator. The elevator was empty, thank the Angel. It took insanely long to get to the lobby. No one was there. He was about to shove the door open when he paused and ran back inside. Whatever they had taken, he would need his stele. He found it in a side room, on a shelf. He was about to pull it down when he heard a gun cock.

"I knew you would come back. You can't leave your stuff behind, now can you?" Jace grabbed the stele and turned to find Agent Rodriguez standing in the doorway, his pistol aimed straight at Jace's heart. His arm was in a sling. "What is that," he asked, nodding toward the stele.

"Leave me alone."

"Like hell I will. What is that thing, and why did you come back for it?" Jace smiled.

"I warned you." Them he launched himself over the agent's head, kicking him as he passed, and ran, drawing a Glamour rune on his arm as he went. Rodriguez bellowed like a bull and tried to chase after him, but he was already long gone.

o(^_^)o

Clary woke up in a mood. The Institute doorbell was ringing, and everyone else was sleeping through it. Unable and unwilling to get dressed, she pulled on a sweatshirt over her sweatpants and camisole and went to the golden elevator. As she exited the giant birdcage, she yawned. It was too early to be answering the door. Finally she flung the door open.

"Can I help you?" she asked the tall, cloaked figure in front of her. Then the figure removed his hood, and she staggered back at the shock of white hair and delicate bone structure. _Valentine_.

"Yes, Clarissa. I think you can." A boy came into view behind him; a white blonde as well, with the same build as Valentine. "Take her." Clary turned to run, but the boy was already on top of her. She managed to let out a single scream before a wet cloth went over her mouth, and the world faded into shades of black.

**Oh, I just remembered that I have to clarify a few things. This takes place after Maryse kicks Jace out of the Institute in CoA. Yes, I have read all the book that are out- as if I could resist. Anyways, Alec and Clary are like siblings, and Clary has been training so hard that now she's equal or better than Jace- I haven't decided which yet. The Inquisitor did come, and when she heard that Maryse kicked Jace out, Maryse and Robert were stripped of their positions as heads of the New York Institute. They now take care of foreign communications for the Council. However, their children were allowed to stay in New York. Alec was allowed to become head of the Institute when he turned eighteen. He still hasn't come out of the closet, however, he is secretly dating Magnus.**


End file.
